


Marie and Thea

by Zalakbian



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, And six feet tall, Angst with a Happy Ending, Crimson Flower Route, F/F, First Time, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Lesbian Character, Marianne is transgender, Nightmares, Part 1 takes place in the academy era and focuses on Dorothea, Part 2 takes place in the war era and focuses on Marianne, There's sex but it's pretty tame and short, They're both tops, Trans Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:15:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23587486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zalakbian/pseuds/Zalakbian
Summary: Dorothea wishes desperately to never feel alone in the world.Marianne prays to find a place in the world that she belongs.They know they belong together, so why is it so hard to be so?
Relationships: Dorothea Arnault/Marianne von Edmund
Comments: 16
Kudos: 38





	1. Marie

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to update my other WIP, but sometimes I get something borrow into my head like this and I had to get it out.
> 
> If you like this, please consider joining to talk about it on the [Edeleth Discord Server](https://discord.gg/m2AVbJ3) I run! You can also [follow me on Twitter!](https://twitter.com/MariMari07_01)

When Dorothea first hears of Marianne, she can hardly believe such a person exists. A noble who hates their position? That would rather live like a commoner? The sentiment just reeks of condescension to the songstress, and Dorothea knows she needs to see the noble girl and suss out what she’s like for real. She knows Marianne is quite shy and timid, doesn’t really speak to anyone aside from Hilda occasionally, but experience with Bernadetta has given Dorothea the tools to safely approach her fellow classmate. First thing’s first, make it a place of comfort, in this case the stables.

Dorothea peeks around a corner and sees Marianne’s back as she brushes a pleasant looking brown horse. The first thing that immediately jumps out at the songstress is how much taller Marianne really is, every other time she’s seen the noble girl she’s been sitting, or slouched, or otherwise bent over and not standing straight. But here, either because she’s away from everyone’s eyes or because she simply does not notice, Marianne stands fully upright to better brush the horse’s mane. Dorothea had thought she was the tallest girl studying at the academy, even without the heels that added to her figure, but here Marianne was, standing in flat soled shoes at least half a head above her.

Dorothea swore she wasn’t jealous.

So the songstress discreetly cleared her throat and prepared to make an introduction, walking closer with heavy steps to make sure Marianne was duly alerted, and not overly surprised when she began talking to her. “Oh hello… Marianne, is it not? Dorothea began, noticing how Marianne immediately began slouching to her eye level right after turning to face her. The young noble didn’t return her greeting, and Dorothea mentally slapped herself in the face for forgetting one crucial fact. “My apologies, I didn’t properly introduce myself, I’m Dorothea, how are you faring today, Miss Marianne?”

Marianne glanced past Dorothea and blinked a few times, looking somewhat nervous. She finally answered after a very pregnant delay, “Okay.”

Dorothea felt a bead of sweat grow on her brow, thinking that getting through to this woman would be even harder then it had been with Bernadetta. “I’ve seen you with this horse before, is he a friend?” Dorothea asked, hoping that getting Marianne to talk about her interests would help.

She did light up just a little bit, a small curl at the edges of her lips, “Yes, this is Dorte… say hello to Dorothea.” Dorte whinnied softly, and the songstress smiled. She was about to speak again but Marianne suddenly argued, “You shouldn't spend time around me, Dorothea, I’ll bring you bad fortune.”

“Come on, Marianne, why would you say that? What misfortune could you possibly bring me?”

Marianne looked down at the ground, rubbing the toe of her boot into the stone floor. “I mean it, Dorothea, people who get close to me, bad things happen to them, it’s happened again and again.”

“Do you think you’re cursed or something?”

“Yes, that’s exactly it, Dorothea.”

The songstress was flabbergasted, Dorothea thought she had self loathing issues, and yet with just this short conversation she could tell this young noblewoman hated herself on an entirely different level.

It simultaneously made her feel sympathetic, and yet also somewhat revolted.

“Marianne, I’ve seen my fair share of bad luck and misfortune, but none of it has led me to believe that just being around someone can cause it.” Dorothea stated. Marianne was about to pick up again but the songstress continued, cutting her off, “I came to see you because I noticed you don’t seem to have many friends at the academy, I’d like to get to know you, Marianne, I find you very interesting.”

“You think… I’m interesting…? Why?”

Dorothea stepped a little closer to Marianne and extended her hand for a shake, “How about we talk about it over a picnic once you’re done here?”

The noble tentatively shook her hand.

And that was how Mittlefrank’s diva ended up having a very pleasing date with the young, blue noble. Dorothea even had Marianne’s favourite tea, lavender, which she got the idea for by offering to cover a fair amount of Hilda’s chores, getting several other useful tips in the process.

Hilda later told Dorothea that she would’ve spoken at length about Marianne completely free of charge, just being happy to help her friend get a cute date, but also stated that she couldn’t refuse such a generous offer.

Marianne gave another little smile as soon as she smelled her favourite tea wafting from the pot. “Thank you Dorothea.” She chirped, adding a touch of honey to her cup and taking a short sip. After that though the two women just sat on their blanket, looking at one another, each waiting for the other to make the first move.

“So, Miss Marianne, you wanted to know why I found you interesting?” Dorothea asked, breaking the uneasy silence between them, not minding that her counterpart was too busy staring at her tea cup then paying attention.

“Oh, my apologies, would you prefer ‘Lady Marianne?’’ Dorothea then offered, remembering from Hilda that Marianne liked getting comments on her femininity. She seemed to brighten a little, but the blue noble quickly turned her offer away, “You don’t need to be so formal, Dorothea, just call me Marianne, please.”

So the songstress had an idea, “Ok, how about Marie then?”

Marianne jolted a bit, opening her eyes wide, “Marie? Like, a nickname?” Dorothea smiled, “I like to give my classmates nicknames, Edie, Hubie, Ferdie, now Marie.”

She felt elated when Marianne giggled a bit, immediately asking how her classmates were, and they ended up talking and talking for what felt like hours, swapping stories of their studies and battles.

Dorothea never did get to tell Marianne about her interest, they both completely forgot about it.

Later, two things happened which drastically changed how Dorothea felt about her new noble friend.

Around a month after their picnic date, Marianne asked Professor Byleth to join the Black Eagles and her request was granted. Everyone gathered together in the classroom to welcome their new student to her first day, which was pretty overwhelming to the timid girl, though she felt better once Dorothea took hold of her hand.

But, before that, Dorothea visited Marianne in her room, and accidentally saw something.

“Ah! I’m so sorry Marie!” The songstress shrieked, doing a one-eighty and pressing her back to the wall beside the door, she really should’ve knocked, for upon opening the door she was greeted with a full view of Marianne’s completely bare back. But what actually upset Dorothea, enough that she could feel the beginnings of tears in her eyes, was just how many marks the noble had on her.

She had only seen her back for a split second, but instantly the sight of burned over and scarred flesh was seared into Dorothea’s mind, and her forearms, they made the singer’s own wrists start to sting as she clenched her fists.

Dorothea stood there against the wall for a couple minutes just listening to the light footsteps coming from Marianne’s feet, eventually hearing her quiet voice speak. “Please, come in.” The songstress slowly peeked around the corner, wanting to confirm that Marianne was well clothed before actually entering her room, noting she had apparently decided to go with some lighter summer clothes that Dorothea thought were adorable.

Though she couldn’t take away the image of how marred her beautiful skin was.

“Does anyone else know?” She asked after sitting on Marianne’s bed, watching the blue noble close and lock the door, she simply turned to Dorothea and whimpered. “Just Lord Edmund.”

“Your father?”

“He’s only my adoptive father,” Marianne immediately spat back.

Suddenly a lot of things made sense to Dorothea, but she didn’t want to press for answers, she’d caught her friend at a vulnerable moment, what mattered was comforting her.

So the songstress held out her hand, slim, with soft digits, expertly manicured and painted nails. Marianne put her own hand, fingers shaking, rough skin and with bite marks on the nails, on top of Dorothea’s, and they clasped.

From then on the two were inseparable, Marianne would always sit with Dorothea in class, at meals, in the cathedral, which the songstress was willing to do just for her noble friend, being as non-pious as she was. One time Dorothea even spied Hilda and Claude watching the two of them from over a hedge while they shared tea, the pinkette flashing her thumbs up and then ducking out of sight immediately.

It was nice to know that Marianne’s former housemates were making sure she was doing ok.

Then, during the victory celebration over winning the Battle of the Eagle and Lion, Dorothea had gotten so worked up and excited that she accidentally kissed Marianne on instinct.

“Sorry!” They both yelped in unison, Marianne trying to continue apologizing while Dorothea interrupted, “You don’t need to apologize, Marie, I should’ve asked first.”

The blue noble was considerably redder than normal, glancing around to confirm no one happened to be looking at their little corner. “Dorothea, ahem! May I kiss you again please?”

This time there was no abruptness, the two just slowly closed up and embraced each other by arms, sharing a deep, long kiss that lasted until someone saw the two and spoiled the fun.

“Aww yeah! There’s another winner in this house!” Caspar cheered out, causing the two women to flinch and back away just after pretty much everyone else caught eye of them as a result.

Dorothea gave Caspar a stern glare while she tried to sort of put Marianne behind her, mingles of gossip coming from many of the other students, all thankfully silenced by Edelgard declaring, “Enough is enough! Privacy! Please!” And everyone went back to their own celebratory activities.

“Thank goodness for Edie, right Marie? …Marie?”

The noblewoman was quietly hunched over and sobbing, and so Dorothea quickly took hold of her shoulders and led Marianne out of the party room to a quiet, empty hallway to let loose. “Hey… Marie, don’t worry, you didn’t do anything wrong, ok? You’re fine, I’m fine.” Dorothea soothed, lightly rubbing her friend’s shoulders as they found a bunch to sit on.

Eventually Marianne sobered up, softly replying, “I know, I’m not upset about that scene, I’m just, I’m remembering the last time I had someone this close to be in life.”

Dorothea rested her head on Marianne’s shoulder, grasping her hand and affirming, “You’re not a bringer of bad fortune, Marianne, being with you has made me very happy, and I’m only leaving if you ask me to.”

“What are we exactly, though?”

“Mmmm, I’d say we’ll find out if we keep kissing.”

“You’d like that?”

“No, I’d love it.”

Pretty quickly Dorothea and Marianne became more than friends, consistently referring to each other both in and out of earshots as ‘girlfriends’, and for once, Dorothea felt perfectly content with her life. After all, her goal in coming to Garreg Mach was to find love, preferably someone rich, who would would and care for her, and her dear Marie was certainly all of those things, but even thinking about her in those terms suddenly made the songstress feel dirty.

Marianne wasn’t a prize, she was a treasure, even taking the time to listen to her stories of living on the streets, her acceptance into Mittlefrank, and all her failed and dangerous romantic pursuits with absolute understanding and empathy.

"I should tell you, when I turned fifteen, on my birthday, my mathematics tutor, he-"

Dorothea cut that off for both their benefit.

“You don’t need to say more, Marie, that’s never going to happen again, I’ll make sure of it.” They kissed to seal the promise.

The night of the ball was magical, Dorothea noticed that Marianne and Hilda had been meeting in secret several times the past couple weeks, and doing a rather poor effort of hiding it. The why, though, was very quickly put to bed when the songstress saw just how pretty Marianne was in her fancy blue ball dress, elbow length gloves, and gorgeous hand-crafted jewelry. Rings, earrings, bracelets, necklaces, a tiara, she was shining more than a silver store.

“Wow, Marie, I knew you were gorgeous, but this?” Dorothea walked up to Marianne and slipped an arm under her elbow, “You’re absolutely radiant.”

“And I think you’re divine, Thea.” Marianne answered, admiring the very elaborate looking dress the songstress was wearing. It was a two piece brown and crimson ensemble, with a decorative silver corset around the middle, and the noblewoman had a hard time keeping her eyes off her girlfriend’s even more then usual exposed cleavage. “Where’d you get that? If you don’t mind?” Marianne asked, tugging at a sleeve.

The songstress lit up, launching into an explanation of its origins as a simple prop piece, “It started as just a failed costume attempt for one of our operas that never came to be, and the director thought about throwing it out and I balked, I said, ‘Alfred I will buy that off you’ and I was bluffing cause I was broke at the time thanks to some unfortunate setup anyway he just gave it to me and I spent nights-”

“Dorothea.”

“-tuning it up and adding my own flairs and ‘voila!’ I had myself a bonafide masterpiece but I only wear it for very special occasions such as this, but I have to admit it's feeling a little tighter then usual I’ve probably been enjoying too much saghert and cream-”

“Dorothea.”

“-in the dining hall but I don’t mind cause I’ve been having it with you Marie yet you always look so slim and trim and maybe I’m just a little worried that-”

“Dorothea!” Marianne barked, finally breaking her girlfriend’s rambles, who just looked at her blinking for a bit.

“I think it looks perfect on you, you’re perfect.” And Marianne gave her a very deep, loving kiss.

They shared their first and last dances of the night with each other, while in between exchanging partners one by one until Marianne was stepping with Claude, and Dorothea with Hilda.

“I’m so glad you were able to get through to Mari, she looks so much happier now.” The pinkette praised during their dance, leading the songstress to smile.

"I feel a little guilty, I know you were trying to court her, then I swept in and-”

“I just want Mari to be happy and loved, and she is with you.”

Dorothea could hear Claude and Marianne talking about something vaguely similar, something about being proud, and happy for her, but only barely. Once they were all done they swapped partners for the final dance of the night, the songstress being so enraptured by her girlfriend’s smile that she nearly tripped wholesale over her feet.

Marianne caught her of course, and they laughed about it all the way back to Dorothea’s room, kicking off their shoes and fancy dresses to just cuddle together in bed with just cotton shifts and undergarments between them.

“Um, Thea, can I stay the night here with you?”

“Like, in bed, you mean?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

“...You don’t mean to-”

“No, just, stay like this, this is nice.”

“Of course, my Marie.”

So they got wrapped up in each other’s arms and legs under the covers, Dorothea under the crook of Marianne’s neck where she could see a few areas outside her cotton shift that were marred by more burned flesh. She kissed every single one of them as the blue noble fell into the cutest sounding little snore the songstress had ever heard.

“Hey Marie? ...I love you.” Dorothea whispered.

Marianne mumbled a little in her dozy state, “Love you too, Thea.”

And then the next day was the incident at the old chapel, where Professor Byleth lost their father, and nothing was the same again.

“Has anyone seen Marianne?” Dorothea was asking, she had skipped out on class two days in a row now without warning, and while the songstress normally wouldn’t mind that much, as they were all coping in their own ways after the tragedy, Marianne had always let someone know beforehand if she was unable to attend class.

She had also knocked on her door and received no answer.

“I’m not sure if it's connected,” Edelgard later told her in private, “But I was distributing mail we received on behalf of the Professor, and one of the parcels came from Margrave Edmund.”

Dorothea rushed back to the dorms, knocking on Marianne’s door, no answer again, she opened it and saw the familiar sight of Marianne lying sideways on her bed, facing the wall. “Marie!” The songstress shrieked, running to her girlfriend’s side and pulling Marianne onto her back, especially checking her arms and thighs for any new marks.

The noble protestest weakly, “Thea, please, I just want to be alone right now.” Dorothea gave a sharp no, stating that she had to make sure her friend and partner was ok.

“Tell me what’s bothering you, Marie, please talk to me.” Dorothea pleaded, soothingly rubbing Marianne’s shoulder. “Was is that letter from your fath- er, your adoptive father?”

A little squeak, “Yes.”

Dorothea looked around and saw a loose, unfolded piece of parchment on the noblewoman’s desk, she gestured towards it and Marianne nodded her head, so Dorothea leaned over to snatch and read the document.

…

“What the hell is that bastard thinking?” Dorothea exclaimed to an exasperated Claude in his room.

“You might hate me for this, but I think he has a fair point, it has gotten pretty dangerous here.” The Golden Deer house leader retorted, the songstress chuckle snorted in disgust.

“This is ridiculous! That bastard knows exactly how miserable his daughter is, and now he’s planning to take her away from the one place she’s been consistently happy? Away from me?”

Claude stood up and looked Dorothea in the eye, confronting with, “Are you upset on behalf of Marianne? Or of yourself? Do you not think there is merit to keeping her safe? Even if it upsets her?”

“Wha…?” Dorothea shuddered to think, the letter listed all the dangerous missions the students had been up to, as well as the kidnapping and eventual assassination of the Captain, arguing that as Margrave Edmund he had to pull Marianne out of school to ensure both of their continued, ‘futures.’

“I just… maybe it’s me, I think it’s both, I just know that we need each other, more than you know, then Margrave Edmund could ever realize.”

“That may be true,” Claude admitted, sitting down next to the songstress on his bed. “But why are you coming to me about this? What can I do?”

“Well, you’re the future Grand Duke of the Alliance, aren’t you? Tell the Margrave he’s crazy!” Dorothea insisted, with Claude just shrugging his shoulders.

“As if that stiffy old codger would ever listen to a brat like me, no I think your best bet would be to talk to Marianne yourself.”

Dorothea bit her lip, Lord Edmund wasn’t exactly ‘accepting’ of her Marie, but he did care for her in a twisted sort of way, perhaps he would listen to her wishes?

....

“You’re already packing?”

Marianne was indeed carefully dividing her items between a pair of large chests, still wearing the same sweaty nightclothes from two days ago. “Please, you have to fight this Marie, it’s not fair!” Dorothea continued to plead, but the blue noble wouldn’t even turn to look at her.

“...”

“Marie, please, we need, no, I need you, I love you, please don’t leave me.”

“It’s not my choice, Thea.”

“Bullshit! It becomes your choice when you won’t even fight it!”

Marianne spun around and glared hard at Dorothea, “You think I haven’t tried to fight him on things like this before?! Like I haven’t bore the brunt of defying him?!”

“Marie, I-”

“I just, I know you're upset, I am too, but he’ll be here tomorrow and that’s that, I’m sorry.”

Dorothea hugged her girlfriend tight, trying not to cry too hard into her shoulder, “Take me with you!” Marianne let out a small gasp.

“I mean it! Your adoptive father, he’s a businessman, and always looking for more influence, well I know scores of nobles from my time in the opera, so I can provide him with all sorts of good contacts from not just the Empire, but all around Fódlan!”

The songstress relaxed and stared at the blue noble’s neck while she continued, “And not just that, I could bring a bit Mittlefrank with me, maybe help set up an opera house in Edmund lands-”

“Thea.”

“-and you’ll need a wife and heirs, correct? I could do all that, and if that’s not enough I can be useful to Margrave Edmund directly, I could do private shows, work in his manor-”

“Thea.”

“-I could even be his m-”

“THEA!”

Dorothea yelped in surprise as Marianne pressed palms to her cheeks along with the shout.

“I don’t want to be alone, Marie, I’m terrified of it, I can’t stand it, I need someone who will love, be with me, take care of me in old age.”

Marianne paused before replying, “You deserve better than a broken girl.”

“I don’t care, it’s you Marie, I. Love. You.”

They stared at each other in solid apprehension for a good minute before crashing together with a fierce kiss. The songstress hopped up and locked her legs tightly around the noblewoman as they flailed and crashed about the room, knocking over the chests, Marianne’s neatly folded garments, the desk chair, all the while caressing and nipping each other. Once an adequate amount of room destruction was completed, Marianne let her girlfriend fall back onto her bed, the two wasting no time in mutually shedding their clothes, neither minding or caring that both wore their marks and scars openly for each other.

Marianne was now hovering over the songstress, fully at the ready, both ladies trying to catch their breaths after the initial freak out subsided.

Dorothea then demanded, “I want it, Marie.”

“All of me?” Marianne cautiously asked.

“More than anything else.”

Dorothea noted that Marianne was noticeably clumsy and awkward in making love, but every moment, every stroke felt more meaningful than the last, because it was her, the true love she’d been searching for all these years.

And she wasn’t going to let anyone take her away.

Marianne started to fumble and slow down part way through so Dorothea flipped them both around and took over, clasping the blue noble’s hands as she gently rocked and rode her, taking in every cute gasp and moan her partner exuded. And then without warning Marianne came inside her, grunting and sighing away in a small climax. Dorothea wasn’t disappointed, it was clearly the blue girl’s first time, and she was obviously tired, while Dorothea was unfortunately more of a professional at sex then she’d have liked to be.

“You’re not done?” Marianne croaked as Dorothea carefully pulled out in order to lie by her side, smiling and planting kisses all over her partner’s neck and face. She felt a hand graze her hip, slowly tracing a line to her centre, and Dorothea felt like crying.

“No, no, Marie, you’re tired, you did good, I’ll finish myself.”

“...you said you needed me, I’m here.” And Marianne took her time in making sure her love had just as satisfying an end, and even with that done the two simply moved on to kissing and cuddling each other till nightfall.

...

Dorothea distinctly remembered falling asleep that night with her head buried in Marianne’s blue, wavy, lavender scented locks, but when the songstress awoke all sore and groggy from the previous night, she was surprised, and then horrified to find the bed lacking warmth. She looked around from bed, Marianne was nowhere to be seen, her chests and things were gone, the room neatly tidied up, yet that lavender scent remained.

Dorothea raised her hand up towards her eyes and saw that she was clenching a tied up cord of Marianne’s sky blue hair, nothing else remained.

She was gone.

No goodbye.

No farewell letter.

Just heartbreak and agony.


	2. Thea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Picking up the pieces of two shattered hearts.

_To Marie_

_My beautiful flower,_

_Are you ok? You left without even a goodbye, what happened? Please write back to me, I just want to feel your voice, to know you’re alright._

_I miss you, please, we can still make this work out, talk to Lord Edmund, please._

_Your love, Thea_

…

_To Marianne von Edmund_

_My lily bud,_

_Um, so, we’re at war now, I was feeling scared and disgusted about it, but._

_Edelgard is right, and I’m going to follow her, you should come join us, we all want the same things._

_Please._

_Your beloved, Ms. Dorothea Arnault_

…

_To M. von Edmund_

_My friend,_

_If I timed this right, it should be appearing around your birthday, I hope you’re having a good time._

_I still miss you, please, I just want to hear a little from you, that’s all._

_Your classmate, Dorothea_

...

**FIVE YEARS LATER…**

A couple bumps in the wheels and an abrupt stop pulled a dreary Marianne from whatever dream she had been inhabiting. She blinked her eyes and looked around the cabin, trying to remember what and where this place was. Muffled voices came in through the thin carriage walls and then the door outside opened.

Marianne sighed, this wasn’t just a trip into town, the bottle still clasped in her hand was nearly empty, that indicated a much, much longer trip, even more so when she spotted the second one slowly rolling across the floor. It was uncorked and completely empty, so by thinking about it; and Marianne really didn’t want to think what with the horrid migraine the outside light was reigniting. A single bottle per day of travel, with one empty and one nearly empty bottle, plus an aggravatingly empty and upset stomach equals...

Roughly two and one half nights worth of distance covered, accounting for stops and sleep.

“Milady,” A voice shrieked into the cabin, causing Marianne to hastily block her ears, “They are waiting for you.”

No, no, she was still trying to remember where she was going, two nights of travel took her well outside of the Alliance, so was she in Almyra? The Kingdom? Empire? “Lady Edmund,” Marianne flinches and bangs her head on the short ceiling, she yelps in pain, “Do you require my assistance?”

“No! No! Just, stop talking!” Marianne barks back, groaning again as the sound of her own voices reaches her. She carefully crouch walks to the door, squinting heavily as the bright winter sun fills her view.

The carriage attendant clears her throat, “Now announcing the arrival of Margrave Edmund!” Marianne quickly finds her sick, tired mind overwhelmed by all the new voices being heard, causing her to miss a step on the ramp and tumble right over into darkness, the last thing she feels being the splitting sound of glass shattering as her body hits the floor.

…

Marianne had a nice dream, the sounds of waves crashing against the shore, gentle basking in the remaining summer warmth as the sun sets. There’s no one else around, except… Marianne turns to her side, and-

She’s awake, and judging from how sore her back is, she was out for a while, even considering the nice bed she was occupying.

“Ah, finally up, young lady.” Someone softly whispers to her, the sound not as painful as earlier, but Marianne’s migraine is still there. She blinks and squints her eyes and sees a woman in a white coat hold an awful smelling concoction near her lips. “Trust me Marianne, you need this.”  
The twenty two year old lord has absolutely no energy to argue, so Marianne takes and sips the charcoal tasting beverage down, groaning loudly as it travels down her throat in one gulp.

“Thank you… Manuela.” She finally speaks, lowering her head back down to the tender feather cushion beneath it. The doctor sat by a small desk and poured a cup of coffee judging by the bitter smell filling the air, taking a small sip before continuing to speak.

“You certainly made an entrance, so many were there to greet you, but the first thing that happens is the Emperor rushing you here in her arms.”

Marianne swallowed a lump in her throat, “I see.” She acknowledged, hitting herself internally for making such a disastrous reappearance, finally remembering why she was here.

“I didn’t miss it?”

“No Marianne, you weren’t that drunk.”

“Oh, well, when is it?”

“Tomorrow, just rest up dear, I’ll bring you some soup later.”

Marianne could hear Manuela begin to scribble something with a quill, and she began to rest her eyes again, wanting to resume that nice dream…

“She doesn’t know you’re here, by the way.”

...

“...Who doesn’t?”

Manuela’s only reply is an awkward silence, Marianne quickly decides to disregard the conversation and let her battered body sleep again.

The next day she makes sure to clean up for the Millennium Festival, even if the prospective time defining event has been reduced to a small gathering of around a dozen and a half former students and teachers. Marianne thinks she must look like a vampire with the heavy, fur-rimmed cloak wrapped around her frame, as if to hide herself as much as possible from all the onlookers. She lurks around the various corners, trying to stay away from as many people as possible, cursing herself for even agreeing to honour the arrangement.

Marianne thought it would distract from the voices in her head, not amplify them.

She notices Lysithea beckoning and waving at her, so Marianne sighs and approaches, noticing another fellow student, Leonie, with her as well.

"Three cheers to the Golden Deer, Marianne?” The orange haired cavalier asks, but the Margrave is only holding a glass of tonic water.

“Here, use this,” Lysithea tries to hand her a glass of champagne, but out of the corner of her eye Marianne sees Manuela glaring at her, so she politely declines, choosing instead to salute with her bubbly medicinal drink.

Marianne mingles onto other forgettable conversations, a handshake with Ferdinand, cheek kiss from Sylvain, even a hug from Bernadetta, all the while peeking between the liquor table and infirmary master, looking for an opening to grab and dash. Eventually Manuela became distracted by an incoming conversation with Hanneman, and Marianne realized the healer’s back was turned, she immediately strutted to the table and grabbed the first bottle of bubbly within reach. She was ready to make her exit, beginning to unwind the metal cage and peel back the covering as she walked towards the entrance and-

Wham. Collided right into someone Marianne wasn’t paying attention to.

“Oh my,” Marianne mumbled, still staring down at the top of the bottle, just glad neither of them toppled over. “So sorry, I’ll just be-”

“Marie?”

…

Marianne was frozen, that single word was like an anchor weighing every part of her body down, even as she could tell the disturbance was bringing more and more people to stare at her. A pair of fingers lifted her chin up, Marianne’s eyes tracing a line from the cork, up a velvet crimson dress, to a pair of all too familiar emerald hue eyes.

“...Marie…” Dorothea repeated, heartbroken and relieved.

The champagne bottle Marianne was holding then shot off like a rocket, cork exploding out in a fountain of pressurized drink, soaking the both of them in sweet smelling nectar

“Sorry, I have to go!” The Margrave barged past Dorothea and the newly assembled crowd in a huff, she needed to get away from it all, it was too much, especially with her.

“Marie!, come back, please!” She could hear following her, along with a pair of clicking heels, but Marianne kept going, out of the hall, up the stairs until she reached the safety of her old room, opening and locking the door behind her using the same key she had as a student.

There Marianne sunk her back down the locked door until seated, already crying as she desperately drank what she could out of her pilfered liquor bottle. Someone began to rap on the door from the other side and Marianne just shouted at them to leave her alone.

“Marie please,” A soft voice leaked through. “Let me in, please!” They began fiddling with the doorknob and Marianne just pressed palms to her ears until all the banging and rattling stopped.

Then she allowed herself to cry again, sobbing tears down her pale cheeks as the drink singing the back of her throat. Through all of it though Marianne slowly noticed that it was not just her tears filling the room, there were similar sobs coming through the cracks of the door, and she was painfully aware of who it was. More moments of silence, Marianne felt like she was going to completely lose it, and then.

“I forgive you, Marie.”

That wasn’t what she was expecting, not even close to it.

“How can you say that?” Marianne barked back.

A small bump as Dorothea rested her head on the door, sitting against it just as Marianne was.

“Because I love you, Marie.”

There’s a choke in Marianne’s throat, she’s trying to return, but there’s something in her mind preventing her, telling the Margrave to stay locked away, where she can’t hurt anyone, where no one can hurt her.

But Marianne’s arms still work, so she reached up and unlocked the door with an audible click.

After a few moments the door slowly creaks open, and Marianne can finally get a good look at her love from her seat on the ground. The way Dorothea walks into her dark room illuminated from behind by soft lantern light makes Marianne believe she is an actual angel, far too good for a monster such as herself, and the Margrave stares back down at the ground. Dorothea gets on her knees in front of Marianne, picking up the forgotten bottle of bubbly and carefully moving it out of reach.

"You can look at me, Marie,” She comforts, carefully brushing Marianne loose bangs behind her ears. “Please, let me see you.” The songstress pleads, resting her hands on top of her lovers.

Marianne slowly looks up again, Dorothea is so radiant wearing that same dress from all the way back from the ball. It looks to the Margrave as if almost no time has passed for her lover, but Marianne can see the weariness of war and fighting in Dorothea’s body, along with some faint, but telltale black veins creeping up her hands.

“You’re pushing yourself too hard.” Marianne criticized, gripping and looking down the songstress’ hands.

Dorothea scoffed and forcibly withdrew them, “You don’t answer my letters, haven’t seen each other in five years, and that’s the first thing you say to me?” She sounds angry, but only briefly, Marianne wants to say more but her throat is just too choked up. Instead Dorothea relaxes, and cups Marianne’s cheek with her palm, “Because you love me, you care about me,” She half asks, half affirms, she knows the answer is yes, Marianne nods anyway.

The songstress helps Marianne to her feet, standing up straight again for the first time she can remember. There they remain gripping each other’s forearms, Marianne wants to kiss Dorothea, to profess her love again and go back to the way things used to be, but she feels that time has passed, it’s impossible. Eventually Dorothea pulls the Margrave into a silent hug, rubbing Marianne’s back through the fur lining of her coat.

“You’re warm.” Marianne whispers, hugging back ever so firmer. “I missed what feeling warm was like.”

Dorothea cooed, and stroked Marianne’s hair, “If you’ll let me in, I’ll help keep you warm.”

“But then you’ll get cold too.”

“We’ll be cold together.”

They end up cuddling under multiple sets of covers, clothes discarded to share the heat. Marianne lets Dorothea feel how badly she’s neglected her body, while in return Dorothea allows Marianne to see how war has changed her own.

“First thing tomorrow morning, I’m making sure you have a proper breakfast,” The songstress declares, keeping Marianne’s head firmly under the crook of her neck.

“I think I forgot how to eat.” The Margrave admits, her frequent drink making even the thought of eating to be near impossible.

“Food can be a comfort too, one of the few I can indulge with in this chaotic world,” Dorothea admits, “And I’ll teach you all I know.”

She makes sure Marianne has a nice plate of eggs and toast in the morning before they each have to depart to their own tasks, chief among the noblewoman's is an important meeting with the Adrestian Emperor.

…

“So you’ve decided to support our cause, Margrave Edmund?” Hubert clarifies, Marianne’s eyes half glazed over as she stares blankly at the papers laid out in front of her.

Edelgard tries to assuage things further, “I know it will be difficult to oppose your countrymen, but-”

“I’ll do it.” Marianne interrupts, abruptly standing up and giving the Emperor a handshake, she just wants to get out of the room, everything’s spinning…

“Our ideals and opinions upon the burdens of Crests in this world are one in the same, Marianne.” Edelgard reiterates as the Margrave steadies herself with a grip on her desk. “I’m relieved to know we can call ourselves true allies now.”

Marianne started to turn around, “As am I.” She gasps out, it’s been nearly half a day since she soothed herself, and Marianne’s stomach is quickly becoming a storm.

“Please, Lord Edmund,” Hubert blocks the door, “The papers, if you’d please.”

“Oh, right,” Marianne backpedals, bending over the desk to read the fine print only heightens the disturbance within her body, and her hand starts to visibly shake as she takes the quill to write. Just before the tip reaches parchment the Emperor grabs her hand.

"Are you alright, Marianne?” Edelgard anxiously asks.

The Margrave touches quill to paper to sign her name, “I’m fine, don’t worry.” Signature one, then two, then three…

Except halfway through the third Marianne spews all over the table and its papers, groaning in pain, then blacking out right after.

…

Her eyes blinked open to the screech of shattered glass in the middle of the night. The bedroom window is smashed right open, and Marianne can hear men shouting. She thought it was a nightmare, and so sunk further into bed, pulling the covers over her eyes, flinching when another window was shattered open, her carpet immediately igniting into flames.

The door to her room swung open, a tall man with short black hair sweat plastered to his forehead burst in and called out to her.

“Matty!”

She raised up from bed and saw her father run around the fire towards her, grabbing her hands and dragging her still in pajamas out of bed. The father coughed out, “We need to find your mother and get out of here!” Pulling her into the hallway despite her protests.

"Daddy?! What’s going on? I want my stuffie!”

Once they were well into the halls of their manor the feel of smoke and heat became all too evident, the father spun Marianne around, grabbing her shoulders and looking into her eyes.

“There’s no time to explain, we need to get you to safety, ok?”

Marianne weakly nodded, starting to cry from the fouled air. Flames continued to creep further down the walls and floors as they made their way to the nearest exit, more shouting coming in the distance. The smoke and soot stung at Marianne’s lungs and she could barely breathe, nearly passing out until a familiar voice could be heard calling to her, “Matty! Matty!!!”

“Mom!” Marianne called out to her, wrapping herself around her mother’s waist, the smell of her burnt light blue hair right by her nose.

Suddenly two dark figures appeared through the smoke, shouting and clamoring, the father quickly drew a dagger from his hip and stabbed one in the throat before beginning to wrestle with the other.

“Run! Get out of here!” He bellowed, another arsonist appearing and tackling the two to the ground.

Marianne’s mother grabbed her and they began to flee further, Marianne screaming for everyone to stop.

“No! Don’t leave daddy!” But he was lost in the fires.

Her mother kept Marianne sheltered as best she could from the heat and flames as they made their way through the scorching dining hall. It meant running through the fire, Marianne crying as she felt her skin being licked, but it was their only way to safety.

Only, a new pile of collapsed debris suddenly blocked the exit, and the flames continued to get closer.

Marianne buried her face in her mother’s dress, her skin becoming visibly burned and blistered from all the heat while her mother looked around for some way out. And then came more shouts.

“There they are!”

“Get them!”

Marianne’s mother swallowed a gulp and held her child’s head, looking into their eyes.

"You have to go without me, Matty.”

“No! Mommy I can’t! I won’t!”

She only pressed her palm to Marianne’s head and began uttering a quiet incantation, “No! Mommy don’t!”

“I love you!” Was the last she heard before the warp spell took effect, whisking Marianne away in a swirl of colours. The next thing she remembered was reappearing in the nearby woods, seeing her home completely ablaze in the distance, she wept.

And then Marianne wakes up, panting, same dream, same voices, two pairs of hands hold her down in bed as she struggles and shouts.

“I need liquor! Please! It burns, the flames, the voices, make it go away!”

A third person tips a vial into Marianne’s mouth and makes her swallow, quickly she feels herself going limp again, and cries.

“No! No sleep!” She sobs, “They’ll come back, haunt me!”

Something warm grabs her hand, “I won’t leave your side, Marie, you’ll be safe.”

When Marianne wakes up again, she finds herself back in her dorm. Lying on her side, she can see Dorothea seated at her desk, back towards her, and... there’s a bottle of red wine next to an appropriate looking glass just above the drawers. Slowly and quietly Marianne rises from bed, she needs the drink badly, it's been nearly a day since the last and everything is burning. She tries to stand up but something clinks, and snags her wrist, Marianne immediately realizes she’s been chained to the bed frame.

“I argued against it, Marie,” Dorothea claims, shifting the chair around to face her, “But it is for your safety.” Marianne then stares in semi-amazement as the songstress pours a glass of the burgundy and hands it to her, she quickly snatched it, but hesitates to down the drink. Instead, she looked at Dorothea like a lost puppy, waiting for some form of validation towards the wrong she seemed to be enabling.

“This is doctor prescribed, Marianne, you need to drink it.” The songstress dryly explained as she re-corked the bottle. “One glass every eight hours, three a day, until your body adjusts to not needing it constantly.”

Marianne stared at and smelled the rich substance in her hand, she knew one glass wasn’t going to cut it, and she was scared of what might happen if her need was only partially satiated.

“Thea, I’m scared.” She finally admited, her hand wavering. Dorothea got up and sat next to Marianne, holding still her shaking hands and guiding the glass to her mouth. Once the trickle reached her lips Marianne immediately chugged the meager amount, then stuck her tongue in to lap up any residue that remained, it felt like nothing.

“More.” She demanded harshly, but Dorothea simply got back into her chair to face Marianne.

“You’ll get more later, but you need to break this addiction before it kills you!”

“I don’t care!” Marianne screams, hurling the empty wine glass to the wall behind Dorothea where it shatters to pieces, the songstress barely dodges it. “I need more!”

The next few minutes are a haze of withdrawal rage for Marianne, but by the end she’s lying back down, whimpering and apologizing endlessly as Dorothea wipes down her sweat with a warm cloth.

“I’m sorry I ruined everything,” Marianne sobs, her heart laid bare. “Mom, dad, then you, it was the only way to find peace with what I did. All this time I’ve only been thinking of myself, my needs, selfish, repugnant Marianne...”

“I forgive you, Marie.” Dorothea reaffirms, planting a kiss on her tear stained cheek, “And I know your parents do as well.”

“Now, I have some applesauce for you, can you keep that down?”

The healing process is both a physical and a mental one, and even when Marianne loses her shakes and quivers after a week and a half, she continues to slowly lower her intake until Dorothea has Marianne taking just one glass a day. Some nights the songstress will sit with the noblewoman, watching her as she sleeps, or lying beside her bed on a futon. Marianne would love to cuddle with her again, but she needs to get better first, and part of that means finding a resolution with her lover.

“I want to be with you, Thea, how do we make this work?”

Marianne is holding Dorothea’s hands in the Goddess Tower, having asked to meet her here earlier that day, both knowing of the romantic implications.

“Promise me that I’ll never be alone again, Marie.”

“You will always be in my life… Thea… will you promise to accept me as I am, flaws and all?”

“I do.”

The kiss seems to last an eternity, and neither wants the moment to stop.

But they know there are going to be more.

…

**EPILOGUE**

They make no plans for after the war other than to survive it, and to be with each other.

Edelgard grants the pair a room in the Enbarr Palace to stay in after the fighting, to help with the healing they’ll all be doing, Emperor included. It’s nice to continue to be among friends, they both feel, especially when they get to help plan each other’s weddings.

Within a few short months, they are Dorothea and Marianne Arnault.

Eventually restlessness creeps back in. It becomes a mutual understanding and agreement, Dorothea starts performing again at Mittelfrank, while Marianne gets appointed to Minister of Religion by the Emperor, a position well suited to her political training and education. It helps put the anxiety back to bed, giving them both something else to focus on, although each other remained the number one priority.

Around three years after the end of the war, Dorothea gives birth to a beautiful baby girl with chestnut hair and chocolate eyes, they name her Emma, and everything is perfect.

So perfect that the next two years brings them two more children, Viola and Sebastian, and Marianne has to talk concerningly with Dorothea about the amount of sex they should responsibly be having.

Ten years after the end of the war Edelgard abdicates and Marianne leaves the political scene alongside her. She quickly finds a new passion as a simple housewife for their new home in the city, some might call that beneath someone like her, but to Marianne it’s the most rewarding life she’s ever had.

Past the twentieth year after the war’s conclusion, a now empty household compels Dorothea and Marianne to travel around Fódlan. They eventually end up back at Garreg Mach once again where they reunite with a similarly wandering Mercedes. The three get the idea to turn the forgotten campus into a thriving orphanage for all ages, bringing new life to the old stone walls.

The historical record ends by stating the two lived out the rest of their lives there, happy and loved.


End file.
